Strangers with Brass Buttons
by Five Minutes Til Bedtime
Summary: Companion for Summer Days like Bathwater. Harry is enjoying the first feelings of freedom he's had in a while when a man in a military jacket approaches him. One-shot.


Title: **Strangers with Brass Buttons**

Summary: Companion for Summer Days like Bathwater. Harry is enjoying the first feelings of freedom he's had in a while when a man in a military jacket approaches him. One-shot.

Fandom: Harry Potter X Torchwood

Word Count: 1,759

* * *

Harry stepped out onto the front porch and just barely managed to stop himself from slamming the door behind him. Aunt Marge wouldn't be happy about that and Uncle Vernon had already threatened to _"give him something real to cry about" _if he so much as looked at the woman wrong. The painful reminder of Harry's near constant nightmares had set the morose tone for the entire trip from Surrey to Cardiff and had made him feel even worse about the sudden relief that rolled through him as he finally escaped his Aunt's house.

What right did he have to feel relief? Sirius was dead because of him and now the entire fate of the Wizarding World rested on his shoulders thanks to some thrice damned prophesy.

Mouth turning down into a slight frown, Harry tucked his hands into his pockets and began walking. The touch of his wand against his fingers was calming and served to remind him that nothing was standing between him and the Death Eaters that would love nothing more than to find The-Boy-Who-Lived wandering around unprotected outside of Privet Drive. He knew that agreeing to come with the Durleys to Cardiff was a foolish idea. He _should _have owled the Order and told them that he needed to be collected. Yet the idea of stepping a single foot into Grimmuald Place – Sirius' home and prison – made bile rise in his throat.

No thank you. He'd rather risk the Death Eaters than confront that particular beast.

The Dursleys had visited Aunt Marge a fair few times in Harry's childhood and he knew the neighborhood surrounding her house relatively well. He set off to towards the pier. It wasn't often that he got to see the ocean and he wasn't going to miss out on the only redeemable aspect of this trip.

The pier was mostly deserted when he arrived. The day was a gray one, with a strong wind blowing in from the sea that nipped through Harry's thin jacket. He walked up to the railing and leaned heavily against it, breathing in the salty air around him with a little grin. The ocean always reminded him of the day he learned of Hogwarts on that foreboding rock in the sea. Happiness and nostalgia passed through him, temporarily outweighing his guilt and grief. He remembered the Dursleys' reactions to Hagrid breaking down the door and the purplish shade of his uncle's face when the groundskeeper made a pretzel of his shotgun.

A feeling akin to freedom washed over Harry as he stared out to sea. The wind bit at his face and tousled his hair as though he was fifty feet in the air and diving after a wayward snitch. He realized that it was the first time all summer that'd he'd been completely alone. There was no Order guards watching and no Durleys around to sneer.

He could simply turn and walk off into the city and no one would be any wiser.

It was the first time that running was an actual possibility. He'd have a head start and no one knew where he was. He could just turn and leave all of his problems behind him. He could run until he found a place where no one had heard of the famous Potters and The-Boy-Who-Lived. All it would take would be to start walking and…

Harry jolted sharply, his heart pounding, as a stranger suddenly invaded the space beside him. His hand went automatically to his pocket and he was half way to drawing his wand before he took in what the man was wearing, a military-style jacket of dark wool and brass buttons. Not robes. Not a Death Eater. Harry kept his hand near his wand anyway.

"Beautiful day isn't it," the stranger remarked casually. He glanced towards Harry and Harry met intelligent eyes staring down at him in slight amusement. The man's eyes were struck him as strange. They reminded him of Dumbledore's only much more serious and infinitely darker. They were eyes that were out of place on the young handsome face they resided on.

"I'm sorry," said Harry, not trusting the man for a moment. Strangers didn't just randomly approach people, least of all people like Harry who normal folks seemed to go out of their way to avoid. "Do I know you?"

The man turned to him and flashed him a warm, easy smile. "I'm Jack. Captain Jack Harkness. I'm from around."

He offered his hand which Harry took if only because it was custom. It was warm and strong and something about it made Harry's skin tingle. There was an air of mystery about the man, also power.

"Around?" Harry said blandly, a tad bit curious despite himself. "I'm Harry," he added, keeping his voice low in case there was someone who would recognize him. He realized this was the first time in a long time that he was speaking with someone who did not see the scar on his head and immediately know who he was. It was as refreshing as it was surreal.

"Harry," repeated the Captain. "I work nearby," he clarified. "You?"

"Me?" Harry blinked, still not accustom to someone who didn't know a thing about him. He relaxed a little and allowed his hand to move away from his wand. If this man truly had no idea who he was then he was no threat to Harry.

"I'm here with family. They're visiting Aunt Marge." The very name made Harry grimace. He _hated _the woman. There was no one who could get under his skin more. The very first time she had told him upon seeing him was to _"not touch anything with his filth._" Harry had taken that as reason to escape from the house as quickly as possible, lest he be banished to the back room to made no noise and pretend he didn't exist.

"Not your favorite aunt, I take it?" supplied Jack.

Harry snorted. As if he liked any of his aunts.

"More like my least favorite and considering the woman I life with that is a sad fact indeed." It was true, even Petunia paled in comparison to Aunt Marge. Better the devil you know than the one that only came around during the holidays and brought her hellish dogs with her.

"Ah family," sighed Jack. "Luckily I outgrew mine."

The comment amused Harry and he shot Jack a wry look. "Good for you. Sadly, I've got one more summer before I never have to see them again."

The thought warmed him. Ever since he discovered he was wizard, Harry had been counting down the summers until he turned seventeen. Come that day, whether Dumbledore liked it or not, Harry would leave Privet Drive and never look back again.

"You stay with your aunt every summer? Seems a bit like a raw deal if she's as unpleasant as you say."

Harry shrugged. Jack didn't know that Aunt Petunia was Harry's only option.

"I go to a boarding school in Scotland," Harry answered, thinking for a moment to make sure he didn't mention anything he shouldn't. His eyes wandered out to the ocean as he spoke. It was surprisingly easy to let the words flow. "I wouldn't come back if I didn't have to, but the Headmaster insists. I don't know who is more unhappy about it, me or Aunt Petunia."

He also didn't know why he was telling this stranger all of this, only that he knew in his gut that this man didn't mean him any harm.

"Not the spoiling kind of aunt, then?" returned Jack playfully.

Harry snorted. "That's putting it mildly," he drawled. Actually his aunt _was _the spoiling kind, just not towards Harry. To Harry, his aunt was like the antithesis of spoiling. "Neglectful" had been the word used by Harry's primary school teacher to describe Aunt Petunia – Harry had never spoken to her again. One less nose sticking into his business that better, even if she only meant well. Back then Harry didn't have the threat of magic hanging over the Dursleys' heads and the very last thing he had wanted was to end up in an orphanage.

Jack turned to lean his back against the rail and looked Harry up and down with a gaze that laid Harry bare. Those eyes struck Harry again. Muggle or not, there was nothing normal about Captain Jack Harkness.

"You want to get out of this wind and get a bite?" Jack suggested casually, but there was a hint of something deeper underneath. "I know a pub with great fish and chips."

Harry looked at Jack. Most people flinched when someone looked them straight in the eye but Jack only met his gaze steadily. Every second he stood with this man, the more Harry grew to trust him. He knew what Jack was asking. He knew what leaving with this man would mean and what would likely happen.

Jack was looking at Harry like Harry was an adult. He was looking at him in the way that strangely only Voldemort had ever viewed him – as an equal. Something rose up in Harry, like a need craving he never knew he had before. Jack could fulfill that craving. Jack _understood_.

"Or," said Jack with a voice that was low and serious. "We could go up to my apartment instead right now. Your choice."

And there it was – out in the open. The reason why Jack had approach him in the first place and the cause of the casual banter. No one had ever been so open in their attentions to Harry. There were usually so many layers. No one was ever willing to just say what they meant out straight.

Harry found he liked it.

He nodded slowly. "Lead the way, Captain."

Jack grinned widely, genuinely. The seriousness slithered away into the background.

Jack offered Harry his arm and Harry gingerly slipped his own into it. He blushed, having never linked arms with anyone in a blatantly romantic way. The entire situation felt strange and unfamiliar – yet at the same time Harry knew Jack wouldn't fail him. This was more than a simple hookup. Jack was as much as stranger as the man in the mirror was. Understanding, relief, comfort was what was being offered here, not just the physical.

As if to prove him right, Jack flashed Harry a brilliant smile and began tugging him merrily down the street.

"Trust me, Harry. I'm going to make this one summer you are never going to regret."


End file.
